Kingdom Hearts: Worlds Colliding
by Rabbi Tucker
Summary: Three inexperienced adventurers travel the universe to find the missing King Mickey. Can they survive voracious Tyranids, an angry Namor, and the psychoic GlaDOS? Or, will they meet their end at the hands of Sinestro, Dr. Wily or the Demon Lord Odin?
1. Prologue: Is Any of This Real, or Not?

**Title:** Kingdom Hearts: Worlds Colliding  
**Chapter:** Prologue: "Is Any of This Real, or Not?"  
**Worlds:** [Kingdom Hearts] [Original Characters]  
**Beta Readers:** Asteres, Janika, Jupiter-Lightning, RaiPhoenix015

* * *

**Kingdom Hearts: Worlds Colliding  
Prologue: "Is Any of This Real, or Not?"**

_"I've been having these weird dreams lately.  
I see people I don't know, doing things that are impossible.  
But somehow…  
It's like they're real."_

It was the same monochrome room. Everything was black, white, or some shade of gray. He had seen it before, in his other dreams. Sleek, black bookshelves, fully stocked with cloudy-hued tomes of lore and science, lined the white walls and rose above concrete-colored carpeting. Here, an impeccably dressed man sat at an ebony piano. His fingers, covered in rich, black leather gloves, danced across the ebony and ivory keys. A soft, light melody filled the air.

With a deafening crash, the slate-tinted double doors of the room were forced inward. Three crusaders strode into the man's study, one marching ahead of the other two. He was diminutive and round, with radar-dish ears and wearing humble garments and clunky shoes, clothing that belied his royal standing.

He pointed something large, something resembling a house key, at the pianist. He brandished it threateningly and accusingly, suggesting it was a powerful weapon.

"Moreau Mephistopheles," he announced, his voice high and squeaky, like an operatic bass singing falsetto. "You have to stop this!"

Moreau Mephistopheles went on playing his serene piano piece.

"Yeah!" his compatriot coughed out. The duck wore a wizard's tunic, and nobody seemed to notice that he didn't have on any pants. He spoke in angry gurgles. "We're on to you!"

The man didn't even bother looking at them.

The tallest of the three, a lanky dog in baggy pants gestured clumsily as he spoke, waving the shield strapped to his left arm. "Gawrsh! Yer messin' with some dangerous stuff, Moreau. It's gonna come back on ya, just like it did with Xehanort!"

At the mention of Xehanort's name, Moreau finally stopped playing. His face was unchanging. He rose from his bench and groomed himself for a few seconds, straightening his charcoal suit and silver tie, then slicking back his jet-black hair. He walked to one his many bookshelves, not deigning to even make eye contact with these rabble-rousers.

"Yes, poor Xehanort." He spoke calmly and quietly, as if recounting an everyday event. "Seduced by the powers of the Darkness, our dear Xehanort lost his heart, then lost his soul. Ultimately, thanks to a group of do-gooders, he lost is life. Twice. Now, you've come to thwart me in my efforts to improve upon his work, is that right?"

"Doggone…!" spat the duck. He waved his wizard's wand in anger. "You're not taking us seriously!"

Moreau slid his gloved fingertips across a shelf, then examined them for dust. His poker face remained unaltered.

"Donald Duck, Court Magician. Your reputation for skill in sorcery is eclipsed only by your notoriety for wrath. I presume that is Goofy Goof beside you, Captain of the Guard. A curious thing, you are, a soldier who uses no weapons. Tell, me, good sir, how is your son?"

Goofy knit his eyebrows together and frowned, wagging a finger at the villain. "Well, you just leave him outta this!" he warned.

"We don't have to fight," said their leader. "It's not too late to turn back."

"King Mickey Mouse of Disney Castle," identified Moreau. "We all know how this little drama will play itself out. You tell me to stop and abandon my evil ambitions. You say that we can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way, you convince me to surrender and I give up peacefully. The hard way, I scoff and we fight to the death in an epic struggle."

He faced the interlopers. Moreau's eyes shone blood red. Goofy and Donald staggered back, but Mickey was undeterred. Moreau reached forth. At first, he seemed to grab at the air. In an instant, he gripped the meter-long handle of a beryl-handled zanbattou. The blade, a foot wide and long as a man, was composed of red crystal. Its aura glowed like crimson fire as he leveled it at the trio. He smirked and narrowed his eyes, the first sign of any emotion at all.

His question was purely rhetorical: "Nobody ever does it the easy way, do they?"

The dream played itself out exactly like this at least a dozen times. Aerol Petersburg always stood and watched from a dark corner. Just as all the other nights, the dream ended right as King Mickey and Moreau advanced on each other.

This time was different... he didn't wake up.

He stood entranced, watching the king leap into the air in slow, slow motion, brandishing his key and leaving a trail of multi-colored particles behind him. Moreau began to crouch and bring his blade around, a crescent of ruby dust in the wake of his weapon. Goofy and Donald began to dash into the fray, both of them dissolving into sandy bits at glacial speed. The entire scene disintegrated, people, furniture, and the world itself crumbling and dissolving into sediment.

That's when Aerol suddenly felt the floor drop out from underneath him. Clutching his head so as not to lose his Lucky Red Cap, his unbuttoned overshirt billowed all around him, and he fell into a pitch-black abyss. His body tilted forward, turning, until he was shooting, head first, into the depths of the unknown. His shirt fluttered like a cape behind him, then stopped as he slowed and his body righted itself.

He came to rest gently on a large, round platform. The platform, from above, resembled a stained glass painting. The three heroes from before dotted its perimeter, along with two people he didn't recognize: a silver-haired boy and a girl with auburn hair. The central figure dominating the artwork was a boy about Aerol's age, decked out in red and holding a key just like King Mickey's.

Once on his feet again, he regained his faculties and freewill. He swayed to and fro, unsteady on his legs for a moment.

'Where am I?' he wondered. 'Where is this place?'

It was then that a voice spoke to him, the disembodied voice of an old man.

_"Just take a step or two. You'll remember how. It's easy."_

He did what he was told. First, his left foot. Then, his right. Then, his left again. His stiff muscles resisted, and he wondered how long he had been sinking into the dark abyss.

_"Good,"_ said the voice. _"Now, there's no time to dawdle. You have a choice to make. Be careful, but be quick."_ Three objects appeared around him, dull and blue like cheap plastic, but made of something else – something magical. He turned and studied the first.

_A shield, the symbol of defense: It carries the power to support and protect your friends._

Was he thinking that to himself now, or remembering it? Or, was the old man talking to him? He wasn't sure.

He spun on his heels a little too fast, still struggling to command his body. He nearly tumbled, face first, into the second item. He examined it hazily, and more words ran themselves through his mind.

_A wand, the symbol of magic: It channels inner strength, in the way of the mystic._

His eyes shifted from one to the other, then felt drawn to the last remaining object.

_A spear, the symbol of authority: It bestows great strength, but at the cost of tremendous responsibility._

He reached out tentatively, feeling the length of its smoothness with the tips of his fingers. Cautiously, the boy wrapped his hand around it and watched it suddenly shower him with sparkles as he pulled it to him. It was near weightless in his hands, almost an extension of his own arm. He swung it timidly in the air, watching it leave azure streaks behind its tip.

_By accepting this power, you accept its obligations._

Did he know that or remember it? Or was the old man speaking to him again? He couldn't quite distinguish between the three.

_"Good."_ This time it was the old man. Aerol knew that for sure. "Congratulations," commended the disembodied voice, _"You've taken your first step into a much larger universe than the one you know. Be careful, though. You'll encounter many dangers along the way."_

Aerol just half-heartedly considered what kind of dangers the voice spoke of. He was still mesmerized by the glowing spearhead that left neon trails of luminous energy.

_"Behind you!"_

The boy spun around, causing his red overshirt to wrap around his body. Nobody was there, but much to his surprise, there were still shadows cast by absent figures onto the floor. He saw them everywhere, crawling all over the circular platform he stood on, puzzling over where the figures were that caused these. Nobody on the floor, nobody in the air, nobody walking around. What could be casting these shadows?

The flat, black figures oozed up from the ground and became three-dimensional. Their stubby arms and legs were topped with bulbous heads, adorned with wiggling antennae and round, glowing, yellow eyes.

In the midst of shock and disbelief, accosted by waist-high Shadows, the young man finally rediscovered his voice. "Holy crap!"

He swung his spear blindly, making wide arcs of sky blue all around him. Some hostile Shadows jumped back out of range. Others were knocked about by his wild swings. One, struck squarely with the spearhead, exploded in a cloud of dark vapor, releasing a glowing core that floated off into the heavens.

"Get away!" he yelled. "Get away!"

The frightening creatures swarmed him, climbing up his legs and scaling his back. Some began to grab at his arms and pin his feet, eroding his mobility one joint at a time. He toppled over, still clutching tightly the spear he could no longer wield. The Shadows dogpiled him, and he thrashed his head from side to side in a vain effort to break loose.

"Somebody HELP ME!!"

Fifteen-year-old Aerol Petersburg shot up in bed, panting, sweating, and grabbing his comforter tightly. His green eyes, wide from terror, shot all around his room. It was his room. It was not Moreau Mephistopheles' study, and it was not a weird stained glass stage adrift in infinite darkness.

He was in his room, safe and comfortable.

He cupped his bronzed face in his hands, finding it slick with nervous sweat. Heaving a sigh of relief, he ran his fingers through his untamed, spiky red hair and collapsed back on his bed. Kicking off the covers, he decided to let the breeze from his open window cool him by blowing away the sweat from his suntaned skin.

It started off as the same crazy dream, the one he'd had every night for two weeks. This time, though, it ended differently. It dissolved into something different, something he had never seen before. It became something absolutely frightening. Staring up at the ceiling, he couldn't help but marvel at its realism.

'It's almost like it really happened,' he thought.


	2. Part 1: Gathering the Trinity

**Title:** Kingdom Hearts: Worlds Colliding  
**Chapter:** Part 1: "Gathering the Trinity"  
**Worlds:** [Kingdom Hearts] [Original Characters]  
**Beta Readers:** Asteres, Janika, Jupiter-Lightning, RaiPhoenix015, Rachel Lyn Cullen

* * *

**Kingdom Hearts: Worlds Colliding  
Chapter 1: Gathering the Trinity**

_When the heroic journey was thought to be for special people only, the rest of us just found a secure niche and stayed there. Now we have no secure places in which to hide and be safe. In the contemporary world, if we do not choose to step out on our quest, it will come to get us.  
-Carol S. Pearson, __The Hero Within_

Hydrangea Antonio sat on a bench, sketching something in her notebook. Her cool blue eyes sparkled like the sapphire waters passing beneath the bridge she sat on. They sparkled with intelligence as they danced across the page, intently directing her hand and pencil.

She tucked a chin-length strand of chestnut hair behind her ear. Somehow, much of it had escaped the control of her baby blue hair band. She reached back behind her head to untie it. After replacing her hair, she retied the knot just above the top of her neck, then flicked back the excess material, where it came to rest between her shoulder blades.

She was every bit as beautiful as the flower that was her namesake, with full lips, expressive eyes, and a feminine, heart-shaped face. She was unaware of it, though, usually dressing for comfort rather than for fashion. Her two best friends were both boys, so she engaged very little in gossip or dress-up games. Ever since she could remember, the three of them spent their summers working on get-rich-quick schemes, always concocted by Aerol. She always handled the money for these schemes because she was good at math.

She looked up from her artwork and saw Aerol sprawled out on the bench opposite her. He had been there all morning. He was naturally tanned, and could bake out in the sun for hours and hours and just become more so. Hydrangea, though, had very fair skin, and as a child her mother would often remind her to come indoors, lest she suffer a painful burn.

At that thought, she examined her shoulders, left exposed by both a blue top and purple vest. Like the tops of her cheeks, they were dotted with freckles, but thankfully not reddened by the sun. Finding satisfaction with this result, she brushed eraser bits from her purple pants and stretched out her arms and legs. She had slept poorly the night before.

"Any ideas, Aerol?"

"Nah." He wasn't really paying much attention to Hydrangea, or even to his plans to make money. As he watched the clouds, he was more preoccupied with last night's dream. The puffy cotton balls drifted upward, tracing a path across the sky that took them behind the bill of his Lucky Red Cap.

He wore is Lucky Red Cap in the dream, and the same short-sleeved, red overshirt he was wearing now. Now that he thought about it, what possessed him to pick it out of the closet if that was true? Oh, yeah. He remembered that it was the only thing in his closet that matched his beloved hat. Everything else was a dull, monochrome gray, like his undershirt and pants now.

Bright colors were something of a luxury to the son of such frugal parents as his. You had to save your money when you had four kids to feed, after all. His red shirt and cap were hand-me-downs from a cousin, which would someday make their way down to his brothers.

Aerol stood up and held the unbuttoned borders of his red overshirt like they were the lapels of a suit jacket. This was his I'm-being-important pose.

"Don't worry, Hydrangea," he soothed. "I always come up with something great, don't I? You have to, when you're the C.E.O. of Petersburg Enterprises!"

Hydrangea took note of his pose. It was the same one he used when doing his impression of the Mayor. He would always be scolded by his parents afterwards, but in the meantime, it kept her and Geo in stitches. "I thought we were The Antonio Company," she countered.

_Clomp, clomp clomp! _They both turned when they heard loud footsteps coming across the bridge toward them. Those could only be the footsteps of the massive Geovanni Paolo, who approached while eating a juicy apple.

"I always kinda liked the sound of GeoCorp," he added through a mouthful of starch.

At sixteen, he was a year older than the other two, which meant he was always bigger and stronger. Aerol was the front man for their business ventures, and Hydrangea was the money handler. He was the brawn. It seemed to be his natural niche as a part of the trio. At almost six feet, he was a good six inches taller than Aerol, and at a foot taller than Hydrangea, he positively dwarfed her. In addition, he was brawny enough, from a combination of both muscle and flab, that they joked that he could've weighed as much the other two put together.

Possessing a large body and regularly performing feats of athleticism, he was often preoccupied with fueling himself. Everything about him seemed to say "food." His eyes were almond-shaped, and like his short-cropped hair, they were chocolate-colored. An olive complexion covered his melon-shaped head. Even his left ear was cauliflowered from a childhood injury. He wiped his mouth on his spinach-green wristband, which matched the color of his headband, high-topped sneakers, and long, baggy, shorts.

Wiping a hand on his butter-yellow tank top, he swallowed his bite of apple and rethought his position. "Maybe Paolo & Associates sounds better."

Geo took another bite out of his apple. Hydrangea went back to sketching. Aerol reclined on his bench again and resumed watching clouds. Geo took a pair of wrap-around shades from his pocket and put them on, trying to hide the sore redness in his eyes. He had tossed and turned all night.

Taking a seat next to Hydrangea, he posed a question. "So, did anyone else dream about getting attacked by little black midgets last night?"

Aerol shot straight up. "WHAT?"

Hydrangea's eyes nearly popped out of her sockets while she gasped in shock. "Omigosh! Yes! I thought I was the only one!" She turned her notebook around to reveal a sketch of a round-headed Shadow. "Was it like this?"

Aerol fell over himself and crawled on hands and knees to examine her illustration up close. "They were just like that! There were hundreds of them!" He sat back on his haunches, the scene from last night replaying itself in his mind.

"Were you able to get your wands to work?" asked Hydrangea. "I couldn't do anything with mine."

"I took the spear," said Aerol. "I think I killed one. It went 'poof.'" He exploded his fingertips to illustrate.

Geo folded in his thumb and spread his remaining fingers in a self-congratulatory way. "I got four with my shield!" he bragged.

"So, what does it mean?" asked the boy in the Lucky Red Cap. "Is it just some weird coincidence, or is there a reason?"

* * *

"Potatoes."

The next day, the trio was quite well-rested. None of them had dreams of ebon assailants, or of rodent kings opposing impeccably dressed villains. Their thoughts were turned once again to how they would make money this summer. They met again on the same pair of benches on the same bridge over the river.

The river split Discovery Village in half, separating one collection of log cabins from another. On the west were lumberjacks and their families. Lumber was harvested from the forest that surrounded that part of town. A series of mountain peaks bordered the entire eastern half of the village. Natural caves in their bases served as starting points for the salt mines. Salt miners were the other half of Discovery Village's population.

"Go on," said Geo. His curiosity was piqued.

"Picture it," enticed Aerol. "Every day, the lumberjacks come home from the forest. Around the same time, salt miners come back from the caves. They all come home while the sun is setting, and they have one thing on their minds: dinner."

"But their wives are already making dinner for them," Hydrangea countered. "Why would they want to eat our potatoes when supper is already on the table when they get back?"

"When my dad gets back from cutting down trees, he's starving! He'll eat anything in sight on the way, _and_ dinner when he gets home."

Geo nodded. "My dad's the same way."

"But potatoes? Just potatoes?"

"Not _just_ potatoes," the cap-topped boy excitedly corrected. "We'll slice 'em into wedges, then deep-fry 'em. When they're crispy, we smother 'em with cheese and sour cream. They won't be able to resist!"

Geo's mouth watered. "We'll be rich!"

Hydrangea considered, putting a finger to her lips. "That does sound pretty good," she said. "It'll cost a lot to get the ingredients, though. I hope we don't have a repeat of what happened with the melonade that one year…"

Aerol became defensive. "Hey, nobody expected those bugs to get into our fruit! We could've been rich if it hadn't been for that!"

Geo soured instantly at the memory. He pounded his bench's arm with his fist. "Stupid beetles! They ate all our supplies!"

Hydrangea stood up and stretched. After checking her naked shoulders for sunburn again (of which there was thankfully none) she drank in the sights of the town. On one side, a dense forest hid the horizon. On the other, a mountain chain kept it from view. North of their favorite bridge, a series of other bridges tied the two halves of the town together, and behind those, the river meandered into the meeting of the forest and mountains.

To the south was the majestic Town Hall, the widest and tallest building in all of Discovery Village. It was specifically built to span the river, symbolically signifying that the town's leadership would not favor one industry over the other. It hid a second meeting of mountains and trees from view.

"Have you guys ever wondered what the horizon looks like?"

"What do you mean?" asked Aerol. He was absorbed in finding a catchy name for their new product. Cheesey Spuds? Toasty Taters? He liked that one.

"You never see where the land meets the sky. There are always trees or mountains in the way."

Geo forgot the beetles for a while. This line of thought was more interesting. "Yeah. What's on the other side of those mountains? Or past the forest?"

Aerol said, "I asked my dad that one time."

"What did he say?" Hydrangea queried.

"He said, 'Stop asking ridiculous questions.'"

As the sun began setting behind the mountains, the three decided to break up and go home, opting to return to the next day with ideas to fully flesh out their new enterprise.

* * *

The twilight's final rays faded through the window of the Mayor's office inside Town Hall. The timing was perfect, since his job was now complete. He placed his quill in its holder and closed his bottle of ink. Discovery Village's five-year plan was now complete. With this, in a scant half decade, his beloved community would be able to expand beyond the trades of only salt and lumber. They would have enough clear land to farm their own crops, and expand into other areas, like finance or even restaurants. A restaurant in Discovery Village! That hadn't been seen in ten generations!

And so, his job was finished and the future of his village secured for decades to come. He rose from his chair and put on his jacket. Giving his bushy moustache a few strokes, and then giving the same treatment to his bald head, the rotund Mayor made his way outside, locking every door behind him. He suddenly found himself accosted on the river-spanning deck outside Town Hall's front door.

"You were foolish to decline my offer," said the dark figure.

"Your offer?" retorted the Mayor. "The people of Discovery Village will continue to live free. Your 'offer'... I spit on your offer!" The Mayor did. "Be your puppet ruler of our fair village? And while you do what, exactly?"

The tall man, features hidden by the shadows of night, spoke calmly and quietly to the mayor. "While I dominate the known universe, of course." He turned his blazing red eyes on the Mayor, luminescent in the darkness. "I get the things I want," he explained. "What I can't win through diplomacy, I take by force."

The tall silhouette snapped his fingers, summoning a pillar of white flames on the river bank behind him. The unholy fire dissipated, and in its place were two minions, finalizing the settings on a story-tall machine.

The man's voice, same as always, was direct, deliberate, and chillingly calm. "Ordinarily, I'd just return at a later date with an army of servants to overrun your little village. But, ownership of this insignificant little world is less valuable to me than harvesting energy resources."

"What are you talking about?" the Mayor demanded.

The silhouette, his irises still eerily glowing red in the night, fixed his cufflinks; the situation was a matter of cold, cruel mathematics to him. "Consider: If a backwater rural world like this one were to defy me, it would incite ideas of rebellion in worlds I've already subjugated. You must be made an example of. However, expending manpower and energy for conquest would yield me what? Salt and lumber? Simple destruction would be a waste of resources as well. Therefore, I will disintegrate your planet and collect the energy reserves for use in other acquisitions. The heart of your world will serve me well."

The Mayor shook his head in confusion. "What? What are you talking about? Disintegrate the world? To intimidate other worlds? _Other worlds?_ Have you gone mad?"

The silhouette snapped his fingers a second time. In response, Shadows oozed up from the ground and solidified themselves in three dimensions. "Though I doubt it will console you, Mister Mayor, you will not suffer at your end."

* * *

Screams erupted all over Discovery Village! Geo raced outside his house on the eastern part of town, looking desperately for his friends. Fissures erupted all around the village's log cabins, bubbling up molten lava. Magma streams under the town's river brought it to a rolling boil.

"AEROL!" he called, dashing along narrow strips of solid land floating on ever-widening creeks of lava. "HYDRANGEA!" He was knocked backward by a geyser of steam that exploded right in front of him.

"HYDRANGEAAAAAAA!" howled Aerol. He was calling from the opposite end of Discovery Village, where lumberjacks and their families lived. He flew through the grassy fragments that had not yet dissolved in the lava floes, hopping over the smallest fissures in search of his friends. "GEEEOOOOOO!"

In case of emergencies, the townspeople were always told to gather at Town Hall. However, it seemed the town itself was crumbling, and would soon take Town Hall with it. Still, he didn't know where else to go. So, he dodged geysers and hopped lava to get there, hoping his friends and family were doing the same.

The night air was lit orange by the glow of molten rock, and Hydrangea was at Town Hall. It was now on an island, floating in a sea of magma. The river that once ran directly underneath the building was now fully evaporated or drained off into one crevasse or another.

She saw Geo racing to her from the east and Aerol running from the west. Geo dove over a widening pit of magma, tumbling his way onto the island. Aerol, stubbornly holding his Lucky Red Cap to his head and gasping for breath, barely outran a crumbling patch of earth, almost getting vaporized by the lava that chased his heels.

The two boys fell into Hydrangea's arms, and the three clung to each other for dear life. The girl's eyes turned skyward, and hers were the first to see what was coming. She pointed above them, shouting "Look!"

Streaks of light were spreading across the starlit sky. Meteors rained down upon their world. Were those the reason their town was being torn apart?

They shook and collapsed at the same time. One of the mountains to their east had exploded, and what debris was not flying through the air was quickly tumbling downhill in a massive rockslide.

"This way!" called Aerol.

He took both his friends by the hand and led them to the the only semblance of shelter around: the dried riverbed beneath Town Hall. They ran for their lives, finally tumbling and fumbling their way underneath the last building standing in Discovery Village.

It was there that they caught a glimpse of three figures, tall and well-cut, shrouded in darkness. One addressed the others with words they couldn't make out. The other two bowed and departed, one vanishing in a cloud of purple smoke, and the other wrapped in a bundle of thorny, black tendrils that vanished with him.

The last remaining figure turned and saw three pairs of eyes spying him. He lifted his hand, and cast a small magic to illuminate the darkness beneath Town Hall. The three teenagers squinted and shrank back in surprise.

The mysterious man fiddled with an onyx cufflink and then spoke calmly, in a matter-of-fact tone. "You three must be something special. There are seldom any survivors at all this far into the destruction of a world. If you'll notice, the screaming outside has stopped."

Hydrangea listened and, finding no voices among the rumbling and eruptions, and was struck horrified, falling down to her knees with tears streaming down her face.

Geo roared in wrath, bringing both fists down into the ground. "Stupid earthquakes! Why is this happening? WHY?"

Aerol stood transfixed. "It's you," he whispered. Then, louder, "You're the guy! You're Moreau Mephistopheles!"

Moreau did not shock easily; his face was normally as fixed as chiseled stone, but this dumbfounded him. This child he had never met, whose home was a back-woods nowhere, just called him by name, causing him to drop his jaw and step back in surprise.

He quickly regained his composure, though. "I don't know how you know me, but I can assure you it makes little difference. If the loss of your world doesn't end you, I can make sure that other things do." With that, he snapped his fingers, bidding Shadows to rise from the ground.

"The midgets!" yelled Geo. "They're real!"

"Why are you here?" Aerol demanded. "Are you the one doing this to our village? Why did you make us dream those things?"

Moreau would not be bothered with questions. He turned his back and was engulfed by a pillar of white flame. When the flames disappeared, so did he. As they stared at the emptiness where Moreau once stood, the Shadows advanced from every direction, closing the circle around the three teenagers.

"Aerol!" called Geo. "Protect Hydrangea! I'm going to pound these stupid things senseless!" He tried. In a valiant effort, he sent a few tumbling back with wild football kicks and anger-fueled uppercuts. Soon, though, he was swarmed and overtaken by sheer numbers.

The two others clung to each other. In between sobs, she found the breath to ask Aerol a question, muffled by his tear-stained chest. "Is this really the end?"

He hugged Hydrangea tighter. There was no other answer he could give. Soon, the pair had innumerable black hands upon them, and all faded into darkness.

* * *

Aerol sat up in bed, taking stock of his surroundings. The walls around him were grayish stone, as if he was in some sort of ancient castle. He was in the middle of three beds, which faced a single wooden door.

There was one window; it was letting in the orange and pink rays of twilight. Geo stood staring out of it, wrap-around shades hiding his eyes. His arms were crossed and he was frowning, no doubt grinding his teeth behind his lips.

"Aerol!" He felt familiar arms wrap around his neck from the side. He welcomed that small bit of comfort. It felt as though he had been sleeping forever, but he was still exhausted. His pine-stiff arms barely obeyed his command to hug her back. Hydrangea's eyes were pink and puffy. Her nose and cheeks were reddened with sorrow, and she choked as she spoke. "We thought you'd never wake up."

Geo punched the stone window frame. "Stupid midgets," he growled. "I can't believe what they did, what they almost… almost did to…" His voice started to break. He cleared his throat, adjusted his shades, and went back to grinding his teeth with crossed arms.

"They are called Heartless," corrected a voice. The trio turned to see a tall, elderly man. His wizard's robe covered everything but his head and hands. He wore a conical hat spangled with stars and moons. He stroked his navel-length beard, an ancient habit of his. "More specifically, they are Shadows. Heartless come in a variety of shapes and sizes. The ones you encountered are relatively weak, but can be quite dangerous in large numbers."

Aerol's head was still cloudy, but he could swear he knew this old man's voice. "Who are you?" he asked.

The sorcerer stroked his beard again. "My name is Yen Sid. I have been following the actions of this Moreau Mephistopheles. It was I who rescued you from your dying world. It was also I who tried to warn you of his coming."

"You gave me the dreams," Aerol concluded.

Yen Sid nodded. "I did."

"You can help us!" Geo interjected. "If you could get us out of our village when… when…" He didn't want to finish that sentence. "Then you can help us get back at that guy! I want payback!" He punched his own hand for emphasis.

"Vengeance is a dark path to travel," Yen Sid warned sternly. "It is not a road I will help you walk." He stroked his beard again. "However, I brought you here so that justice can be done. Each of you has a gift to offer the universe. Those gifts can help wrest it from Moreau's clutches."

He eyed each of the three. One had cried so long that she could cry no longer. One hid his anguish and helplessness behind his wall of anger. The last was stunned and confused to the point of near numbness. Yet, these three could be made into champions.

"Will you join me?"

Geo pumped his fist into the air. "Heck yeah!"

Hydrangea wiped an eye and nodded, breathlessly replying, "Uh-huh."

Aerol's eyes examined the floor. A gift to offer the universe? He wasn't that special, just a kid with hair-brained schemes to earn summer cash. Still, what choice did he have? He had no home to return to, and wouldn't want to go there without his friends anyway.

"Okay."

And so it began.


	3. Part 2: Mentoring

**Title:** Kingdom Hearts: Worlds Colliding  
**Chapter:** Prologue: "Is Any of This Real, or Not?"  
**Worlds:** [Kingdom Hearts] [The Sorcerer's Apprentice] [Marvel Comics] [Original Characters]  
**Beta Readers:** Asteres, Janika, Jupiter-Lightning, RaiPhoenix015

* * *

**Kingdom Hearts: Worlds Colliding  
Chapter 2: Mentorship**

"_Seriously, if you always put limits on what you can do… it'll spread over into the rest of your life. It'll spread into your work, into your morality, into your entire being. There are no limits… A man must constantly exceed his level."_

_- Bruce Lee (quoted in __The Art of Expressing the Human Body__)_

Many years ago, when Discovery Village still existed, three young schoolchildren took it upon themselves to set up a business.

"That'll be three silver," said eight-year-old Aerol Petersburg.

The lumberjack, their sixth customer at the melonade stand, dug into his pocket and placed a handful of coins on the countertop of their shoddily built table. Aerol stared at the collection of currency: one silver, three bronze, and five copper. Was that enough? Was that too much? The math was too much for his young brain to comprehend without a pencil and paper.

Beside him, nine-year-old Geo laid out a cup of ice and took two chunks of melon from a bucket. He didn't begin squeezing them into the cup just yet. He, too, was perplexed by the money situation. Why start squeezing if they were going to get short-changed? Or, would they have to give change back to their customer?

Aerol and Geo both turned to their third business partner. Eight-year-old Hydrangea's sharp blue eyes looked over the cash as she calculated its total value. It was exactly enough. She turned to the boys and nodded in confirmation. With that new information, Geo began squeezing and Aerol thanked the lumberjack for his patronage.

As the lumberjack went on his way, Geo wiped his hands with a white, fuzzy towel. "Business is booming, isn't it?"

Aerol beamed, his oversized red hat nearly hiding his eyes. Even adjusted to its smallest size, it still fit him loosely. "That's six customers, already, and we've only been open an hour! We'll be rich!"

Geo smiled. "All our dreams are going to come true! Especially yours, Aerol."

"What do you mean?" the other boy asked.

"It's like you were saying yesterday," reminded Geo, "You wanted to be rich, remember? You said you wanted to get rich so Hydrangea would want to marry you someday."

Hydrangea's eyes grew wide in surprise and she brought a hand to cover her mouth as she gasped. The girl immediately spun around to hide her blushing face behind hunched shoulders. Aerol? Her? Married?

Soon, her hand was also hiding a self-satisfied smile. Aerol, her best friend, admired her enough that he wanted to marry her! She felt special to be so well-liked.

"Hydrangea!" It was her mother, probably calling her in to check for sunburn again.

"Coming!" she yelled in reply, then raced home.

The group's lumberjack customer wandered back to the melonade stand, crunching on something from his melonade. "Hey, what are these little black things floating around in my drink?"

"Seeds," replied Aerol.

Soon, young Hydrangea came bouncing through the door to her family's simple cabin. It was a feminine home, with curios and vases of fresh, colorful flowers laid on top of doilies. She bounded through the living room and into the kitchen, where she hopped atop a stool and sat with her legs dangling in front of her. She swung her feet out like she always did when she was excited. She couldn't wait to report the news of the day.

"Mom, guess what? We already had six people buy melonade today!"

Flora Antonio smiled, amused at her daughter's excitement. She came to the stool, unscrewing a jar of lotion as she stood behind her daughter. "Is that so?"

"Yeah! That's eighteen silver already! We might sell melonade to a hundred people! If we do, we'll have thirty gold! We paid seven gold, four silver, and two copper for the melons, so that means we'll make a profit of… mmm…" she put a finger to her lips and hummed while calculating. "We'll make twenty-two gold, four silver, and eight copper. That's… mmm… mmm…" She traced invisible numerals in the air. "That's seven gold, four silver, and six copper each!"

Flora rubbed lotion on her daughter's pink shoulders, soothing the sun's damage. "Don't show off," she admonished. "What do you want to do with that money, if you make that much?"

Hydrangea kept kicking at the air. "The mercantile has new books. I might get one about lizards. Maybe cats. Or fish? I like fishies."

Her mother sighed. "Another book? Wouldn't you like a doll, like other girls your age?"

"I like books," her daughter said. "Besides, Aerol and Geo are boys. They'd never play dolls with me anyway." Suddenly, her memory was jogged. "Oh! I forgot the best part! If we make enough money to get rich, Aerol said he'd marry me!"

Flora's smile of amusement returned. "The Petersburg boy?" She turned her daughter's head slightly, and began rubbing her cheeks and nose with lotion. "Well, I know you like telling people about the things you read. You'd better watch what you say around Aerol if you like him back."

"Why?"

"You're a very pretty little girl," her mother said, "but nobody likes a know-it-all." After she finished rubbing lotion on to Hydrangea's crestfallen face, she announced, "All done."

The girl slid off the stool and sullenly trudged out the door.

* * *

The library of Disney Castle was a stately place. The walls and floor were carved from gleaming, snow-white alabaster. Empty wall space and the floors beneath the furniture were lined with ornate tapestries and robes, giving the room a warm, welcoming atmosphere. Rows of hand-carved, oak bookshelves filled its acre-sized floorspace, with matching hand-crafted tables piled high with volumes from past study.

Today, in the early morning of a seemingly normal Friday, there sat at one such table a lonely queen in a pink gown. She, like her husband, was a black mouse with radar-dish ears. She sorrowfully gazed at the platinum wedding band on her hand, which was gloved in white silk.

Queen Minnie then turned back to the letter she was re-reading, just as she had re-read it every day for the last six months. It was wrinkled and worn, with the letters blurred in some spots where her tears had met the ink. Though its message was reassuring, she could not help but heave a melancholy sigh.

_Dearest Minnie,_

_I have to go out on a mission again. It seems like worlds in our universe need saving all the time now! If only Xehanort hadn't discovered so many secrets about Darkness in people's Hearts, then we wouldn't be in this fix. _

_Minnie, I'm so sorry to leave so suddenly. Don't worry, though. Donald and Goofy are with me, so I have nothing to worry about with my best friends at my side. _

_We should be back before long, and you and I will be together again._

As with all his personal letters, it was signed with a doodle of himself, a round head with two circular ears.

She carefully folded up the letter and replaced it in its envelope, placing it flat on the table. As she rose from her chair, she wiped a tear, knowing she would return tomorrow to read the letter yet again.

This past Monday morning found fifteen-year-old Hydrangea in a poorly lit library inside Yen Sid's castle. It was dawn, and the only light source was the dim, purple glow heralding the rise of the sun from a small, distant window. Her narrowed eyes were staring intently at an unlit candle on the table before her. She furrowed her brow and screwed her mouth to one side, fixated upon the task at hand: Light the candle with her magical potential. Fifteen minutes passed, and the candle remained unlit.

Hydrangea sighed and let her body fall limply backward against the back of her chair. She puzzled the task set before her. How was she to call up the magic to make that happen? Until a few days ago, magic was the stuff of myth. Now her life could very well depend on her mastering fairy-tale mysticism.

Her unfocused, upside-down gaze caught sight of a figure nonchalantly sauntering in her direction. His silhouette did not match Yen Sid's or her compatriots'. Instinctively recalling that the last shadowy figure she encountered laid waste to her village, she shot up out of her chair and snatched the candlestick from the table, brandishing it with as much courage as she could muster.

"Who are you?" she demanded, wide-eyed. Her hands trembled, and her chest heaved with adrenaline-soaked breaths. "Stay away. Stay there! Who are you?"

The shadow put his hands up to show he was not a threat. Holding a small candelabra in his left hand, he wiggled the fingers of his right and lit the room by setting his candle wicks ablaze.

"Who are you?" the girl demanded again. There was some measure of relief in knowing that this shadow was not Moreau Mephistopheles, but his scruffy appearance still looked a bit unsavory. Clad in a beat up, black leather jacket, the stranger had messy, stringy dark hair that spilled out from underneath an equally worn-out black fedora – not the imagined appearance of a hero, or even an ally.

"My name is Balthazar," he said in a relaxed voice. "Yen Sid asked me to help train you."

Dumfounded, she still shakily pointed the candle at him. The best her frazzled nerves let her respond with was, "Huh?"

"I'm here to help," Balthazar calmly reiterated. "So, you can put that down, unless you plan on waxing me to death."

Hydrangea sighed in relief, putting a hand on her chest to calm her racing heart. In the moment that she set the candlestick on the table and closed her eyes to steady her breathing, Balthazar closed the distance between them. Her eyes flew open in surprise when he took her by the shoulder and gently spun her around, placing her back in her chair in a whirlwind of motion.

"You see that candle there? You're supposed to light it, right?"

"Yes," she answered, still adjusting to the whiplash of moods.

She began turning to face him, but he gripped the top of her head and redirected her attention to the candle. "Good. Now, what is fire?"

"Fire," she said. "The carbon in the candle wax should react with oxygen in the air to form…"

"Good, good," interrupted Balthazar. She had a background in science and things intellectual, just the type of student that he had worked with successfully in the past. The sorcerer had a knack for linking magic and science, likely the reason Yen Sid had called on him for assistance. "Now," he continued, "how does that fire start?"

Balthazar's laid back, fast-talking demeanor didn't leave Hydrangea time to ask where this line of conversation was going. After the momentary fright he had given her, any brainpower or heart she would have spent readjusting to the situation was instead spent answering odd questions in a state of befuddlement. His fingers on her cranium provided a constant gentle reminder that her focus should be on the candle, anyway. "You need activation energy to start a combustion reaction," she said. "You need a spark, or some other source of heat."

"And what is heat?"

Again, the sorcerer's rapid-fire questioning robbed Hydrangea of the presence of mind to do anything more than go along with his pop quiz. "Molecules vibrating," she answered.

"Good." He removed his hand from atop her head and leaned in close, his eyes never breaking from the candle. He lifted his left hand and wiggled his fingers at the object. "Now, all you have to do is agitate the carbohydrates in the candle until their electron bonds break and… _viola!_"

The wick ignited. The girl from Discovery Village was left slack-jawed in amazement for all of three seconds before Balthazar blew out the candle.

"Now you."

* * *

The dark and gloomy Friday morning was barely distinguishable from the night in Latveria. A violent thunderstorm blotted out the sun's warming glow and enveloped a grand, stone castle in cold, ebon shadows.

The storm clouds were darkened further from factory fumes. Latveria's monarch hungered for absolute control, and constructed an army of robot soldiers to help him enforce his authoritarian rule over his homeland. Robot foundries dotted the landscapes, each one a hub of terror. Their ever-vomiting smokestacks served as symbols to the Latverian people of their despot's own black and poisonous heart.

Atop a high precipice of Castle Doomstadt, Latveria's seat of power, a human guard collapsed in illness, poisoned by the polluted rainfall's toxic miasma.

The cold, basaltic stone of Doomstadt's throneroom flickered with the fulmination of lightning from the storm outside. A mosaic of blocks made up the walls, while columns of dark igneous rock held up the ceiling above a narrow strip of red carpet. On one end of the crimson line was a set of massive, Gothic, mahogany double doors. On the other rested a raised platform upon which sat a tarnished golden throne.

In between, a man in gunmetal armor stood with arms crossed, admiring a painting on the wall. As a chill wind from the room's many arched windows ruffled his green tunic and caused his matching hooded cape to billow behind him, he remembered when he commissioned an artist to paint this portrait of himself. He was so pleased with the result that he had the artist executed, so that no other ruler would ever have a portrait of equal quality produced.

The mahogany doors creaked open. Doctor Doom was well aware of the intruder's presence, but did not yet deign to acknowledge it. The fearsome gunmetal mask that eternally covered his face was unmoving. Beneath it, his scarred visage was the same.

The intruder stepped inside, slowly walking the length of Doom's red carpet. He adjusted his silver tie and fiddled with his cufflinks.

"Doctor Victor Von Doom, Lord of Latveria, I presume? The horde of robots you sent to kill me was less than formidable. I will admit, though, they almost made me break a sweat."

"A mere test of your worthiness," Doom countered, eyes still on the painting. "Had Doom desired you dead, you would be dead, Moreau Mephistopheles."

Moreau had observed Latveria for some time. He knew its despotic ruler to be a man of science, sorcery, technology, and alchemy. Mephistopheles was well aware that Doom kept a watchful eye on all possible challenges to his reign, domestic, foreign and even otherworldly. It was no surprise to him that Doom saw him coming, and might even know his name. Of course, believing that the monarch was powerful enough to defeat such a being as Moreau Mephistopheles was clearly foolish.

"Indeed?" asked Moreau, raising an eyebrow. Rather than trade in boasts or bravado, he decided to come directly to the point. "How coincidental. I've come to talk to you about exactly that; I can offer you what you desire."

Doctor Doom stopped admiring the painting, finally turning his eyes to Mephistopheles. "And what do you believe Doom desires?"

Moreau smiled. "Why, what any man of your greatness and prominence desires: Power."

Doctor Doom uncrossed his arms and marched to his throne, metal boots resonating against the stone floor. He sat upon his golden seat of grandeur, gripping the armrests in a display of his authority. Fixing his gaze on the intruder, he issued a warning and an edict.

"You have earned an audience with Doom, Mephistopheles. Do not dare waste my time."

* * *

Years ago, Flora Antonio carefully selected apples from a barrel at Discovery Village's mercantile. Her husband was lost when a salt mine collapsed three months earlier. As the mineshafts crumbled around him, Hydrus Antonio rushed in and out of the catacombs, carrying injured miners out and rushing back in to find more. Flora was proud of Hydrus' heroic sacrifice, as proud as she was of him as a husband and father in life.

Though the salt mine provided a pension on which she could raise her little nine-year-old Hydrangea, she would still struggle with some expenses. Fortunately, Flora was able to afford the occasional treat for her daughter. For reasons she could never quite fathom, Hydrangea always wanted new books instead of dolls, dresses, or other, more feminine trinkets and baubles. Even now, while Flora was choosing the best of the mercantile's apples, little Hydrangea thumbed through an assortment of animal-themed children's books, all of which were filled with colorful pictures and facts about all manner of creatures.

The child was so engrossed in her search for her next big read that she didn't notice the approach of the Mayor, Discovery Village's most prominent and revered citizen, coming up beside her. He was flanked on one side by Mrs. Louis, a notorious busybody whose family was known for social-climbing at the expense of others.

"It was on our property," she insisted. "The Town Charter is quite specific about hunting and fishing rights. Wild fish and beasts that are hunted or harvested on any estate, no matter how small, are the rightful property of the estate's owners. That pheasant belongs to my husband and I, not to that thieving Wayne Petersburg! He is always catching pheasants and wild turkeys on the property of large landowners – a habitual criminal!"

Hydrangea's focus was broken at the mention of her best friend's father, and she was pleased that the Mayor came to his defense. "Wayne is a hard-working lumberjack who only hunts or fishes to feed his sons. His wife is ill often, you know, and medicines are expensive."

Mrs. Louis' complaints grew with increasing vitriol. "I don't care what trouble his unwashed little brood and hypochondriac wife are causing. The law is the law! You should know that better than any, Your Honor, and I demand justice!"

The mayor sighed sadly and dabbed his forehead with his handkerchief. "Well," he conceded, "I suppose I have no choice, then…"

"Wait!" called the young girl. "He didn't break the law!"

Flora dropped her apples in horror at the outburst. "Hydrangea!"

The girl held up one of the mercantile's animal books to the Mayor, who accepted the book and opened it. Its title was simply _Birds_. "Beasts are mammals. Pheasants are a kind of bird."

Flora took her daughter by the shoulders and pulled her away from the adults, hoping to arrest her child in speaking out of turn. The youngster, eager to clear her friend's family, continued on. "Birds aren't mammals; they're different! That means Aerol's dad didn't break the law, because if the law only talks about beasts and fishes, it doesn't say anything about birds."

Mrs. Louis scowled and raised her voice. "I'd expect such behavior from a child of that criminal Petersburg, or that crude Paolo family, but _never_ from the daughter of Hydrus Antonio! What are you teaching this child, Flora?"

"I'm so sorry!" Flora apologized. She backed away while forcefully leading her daughter toward the door, repeating a litany of penance. "I'm so sorry, Your Honor! I'm sorry, Mrs. Louis! I don't know what got into her."

The Mayor spent this moment flipping through the pages of _Birds_.

"Wait until the other women of society hear what an impudent little delinquent you're raising, Flora! She sullies the name of your departed husband with her shameful disobedience!"

"But it's true!" Hydrangea insisted.

Flora cupped her hand so tightly over her daughter's mouth that she was threatening to bruise the girl's freckled cheeks. Lifting her up off the ground with her other hand, Flora carried Hydrangea out the door. "I'm so sorry!"

Even in absence of her target, Mrs. Louis continued her condemnation. "Of all the nerve. Flora is raising that child to be too smart for her own good – smart and smart-mouthed!"

"She's right."

"What?"

The Mayor closed _Birds_ and outlined his final conclusion. "The town charter specifies 'fishes and beasts' but does not address game fowl. They lay eggs instead of giving live birth and have no fur. Did you know their feathers are more closely related to reptile scales than fur? In short, Wayne Petersburg broke no law because no law about hunting game fowl actually exists."

The woman was incredulous. "Your Honor! You can't be serious about what that wicked little…-!"

"Enough," bade the Mayor in a calm but stern tone. "I've made my decision. At the next town meeting, you can petition to have the gaming laws amended. Until then, that's enough on that matter." At this, he strolled over to help a merchant clean up the apples dropped by Mrs. Antonio. Quietly mumbling under his breath, he mused aloud with a smile, "What a clever little girl."

While the mayor went on to purchase his groceries, Mrs. Louis stood in place, twisting her face in anger and balling up fists at her hips. Children in Discovery Village knew to be seen and not heard when the adults were speaking of serious matters. Only the evil and the weird did not. That was the social order of things. Neither she, nor polite society, nor the populace at large would abide a little girl as delinquent or as abnormal (or both) as the little pest who dared lecture _the Mayor himself_ about the laws of the Town Charter. She silently swore an oath to herself that Flora Antonio would pay for the indignities she had suffered. Oh, yes… for these outrages, she would pay dearly, and her daughter would be made to suffer, too, until she finally learned her lesson.

Outside, a safe distance from the mercantile, Flora planted her daughter on the ground again and began scolding the girl in exasperation. "What were you thinking, Hydrangea?" The question was as frustrated as it was rhetorical, a shouted whisper strained with her own humiliation as well as anger and disappointment with her daughter. "You can't go around correcting grown-ups like that; it's wrong! And the Mayor… the _Mayor_! You contradicted the _Mayor_, of all people!"

"But Aerol's dad…"

"No 'but's! Listen to me, young lady, you need to know your place!" With that, she turned the girl around and swatted her backside, punctuating the lengthy rebuke that followed.

"If your father…" (_SPANK!_) "…could see what you're turning into…" (_SPANK!_) "…he would be…" (_SPANK!_) "…ashamed of you…" (_SPANK!_) "So ashamed!" (_SPANK!_)

Hydrangea's breath was coming to her in strangled sobs. Her reddened cheeks were soaked with tears and her crimson nose was running profusely. More than the pain of spanking, she was cut to the bone by the invocation of her dearly loved and sorely missed father. She couldn't bear the thought of him feeling shame of her, or the absolute horror of losing his love from beyond the grave. "I'm sorry, Mommy! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, Daddy! I promise I won't do it again! I'm sorry! I promise!"

"Come long," ordered Flora, roughly grabbing her daughter's hand. She led Hydrangea home, where she would be put to bed without supper. "Next time you feel like showing off, think of your father."

* * *

"Now you're ready for the next step."

With that declaration and a wave of Yen Sid's hand, a small puff of white smoke exploded on the table, resulting in a shower of sparkles around a second candle.

"Now," he instructed, "make the flame jump from that candle to this one."

Fifteen-year-old Hydrangea turned to face the two candles, one lit and one not, on the table. The entirety of that Monday morning in Yen Sid's castle was spent lighting candles with Bathazar's instruction. Now, the ancient wizard and scientific sorcerer sought to build on that foundation in the afternoon.

"Don't sweat it," assured Balthazar, casually. "You know the science, and you know the magic is in you. You can do this."

She intently studied the flame upon the first candle. Somehow, the fire had to jump from one candle to the other. She imagined the carbon-based molecules in the wick dancing about, colliding with oxygen and dancing around until they melded together, visualizing a strange ballet of atoms that radiated heat and light. What if that waltz of matter were to wander away from the wick? What if the music of chemistry led the prancing molecules away to a second dance floor, swirling about and recombining with each other along the way? She imagined it over and over again, repeating the action in her mind.

The candle's flame began to flicker, then to lean to one side. It bounced up and down like a swimmer on a diving board, making ready for a grand leap. Then, suddenly, the fire sprang off its perch and grabbed hold of the fresh, unlit wick of the second candle, finally settling in and making its home there.

Hydrangea's face lit up in amazement. "I did it! I did it!"

Balthazar's stubble-covered cheeks spread wide to reveal a toothy grin. "There you go."

She turned to find Yen Sid smiling in approval. He nodded his head to signal that her job was well done. "Very good," he said. "Now do it again."

"Again?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Again. Twenty more times."

The girl's eyes widened at the enormity of the task. It was incredulous. "Twenty?"

"Practice makes perfect, kiddo," agreed Balthazar.

The old wizard nodded, then produced a small book from the inside of his robes. He placed it on the table in front of her, where she could see its title: _Basic Fire Magic for Beginners_, by Archemedes T. Owl. "When you are finished, I suggest studying this manual. It will show you how to do more than simple parlor tricks like this."

She took the book in hand, running her finger along the binding. "Where did this book come from?"

"My library," answered Yen Sid. "There are more like it if you need them. I suggest starting with this one for now… _after_ you've made the candle fire jump twenty more times."

Queen Minnie's dress billowed as she traversed the hallways of Disney Castle. The quiet of the early mornings used to be pleasantly peaceful for her, before the inevitable business of running the kingdom began later in the day. Being queen was busy and hectic, and the early mornings' serenity was once highly prized.

Things were different these past six months, though. She used to meander through the castle and its grounds with King Mickey at her side. Now she walked the premises all alone. Every footstep echoed through corridors or sounded on cobblestone, an auditory reminder of her solitude.

She was walking down the grand hallway of Disney Castle that morning, the line that connected the castle's library, entrance, and throne room. The path from any one part of the castle, be it the Gummi Ship hangar, the courtyard, or the dining hall, led through the grand hallway. It was here, passing the throne room, that a puff of white vapor caught her eye. There, inside the throne room, on the throne, partially hidden by the dissipating magic fog, was a blue envelope.

Queen Minnie briskly strode to the throne and picked it up. She examined the star and moon pattern printed all over it, accented by a yellow wax seal impressed with a crescent moon. Curious, she broke the seal and read the letter immediately.

_Salutations to you, Queen Minnie of Disney Castle;_

_Her Majesty's king and love, King Mickey, has been away on his mission of investigation and peacekeeping for far longer than expected. No doubt this leaves the Queen with a heavy heart. For that, you have my sincerest sympathies. _

_As my most prized pupil, his absence leaves me with great concern as well. No word of his location, news of his exploits, or status of his mission has been heard. Some may fear the worst, but Her Majesty and I both know that he has faced danger many times in the past and returned home unscathed. Nonetheless, an absence of this length with no communication at all is cause for some level of concern, a concern Her Majesty and I both share. _

_In such circumstances, assembly of a search party is more than prudent. However, the dangerous nature of a mission such as this necessitates a group of skilled adventurers, the mightiest of which in the known universe have wielded Keyblades. However, the three Keyblade wielders of the Destiny Islands, natural choices for this task, have not been heard from. Their mysterious disappearance cannot be held as coincidence. _

_Therefore, I shall send to Her Majesty the Queen another group of young explorers. They will be charged with the task of locating the other heroes, including His Highness the King, so that the combined might of His Highness and his allies may return the known universe to safety. _

_Best Regards,_

_The Sorcerer Yen Sid_

* * *

Wednesday evening brought Hydrangea again to Yen Sid's extensive library. She took a moment to unfold all the corners of _Principles of Elemental Defense Spells_ before replacing it on the shelf. The budding magician had a habit of folding over the corners of her textbooks at home when she thought there would be something worth referencing later.

Hydrangea hungrily scanned the shelves for her next read, having devoured three beginner-level codeces in as many days. _Moste Potente Potions_ seemed inapplicable to her current course of training, and the odd spelling put her off. _Ancient Runes Made Easy_ and _Charm Your Own Cheese _likewise seemed unuseful. She might have been interested in _The Invisible Book of Invisibility_, had she been able to see it. When Hydrangea began reaching for _The Dark Arts Outsmarted_, she was diverted by a book to which she felt a strange pull: _Field Guide of Mystical and Powered Weaponry_.

She flipped through its pages with her thumb, absent-mindedly reading the headings of random entries. "Let's see… 'Vorpal Blade…' 'Ultima Weapon…' 'Quantum Bands…' 'Psypher…' 'Power Ring…' 'Mjolnir…' 'Keyblade'? What is…?"

"Whatcha doing?" asked Geo.

The girl shrieked and launched the book into the air. It bounced off her fingertips as she tried to regain control. Ultimately, it landed in Geo's hands.

Geo eyed the tome. It looked thick. "Pumping up the ol' noggin, huh?"

"Not really," she shyly denied. "Just trying to pass the time."

He opened it up to a random page. "Well, if I ever tried to understand how a… 'Crimson Gem of Cyttorak' worked, my head would explode."

"It's… not really…" She trailed off as her eyes sank to the carpet.

Geo handed the book back, then mussed her chestnut hair when his hands were free. "Read it up, girlie. You know how much Aerol and me depend on that noodle of yours." He pressed his finger to her forehead for emphasis.

She couldn't suppress a smile, setting the field guide aside to redo her hairband. "Thanks, Geo."

The boy turned to walk away. "Gotta go. Taskmaster's working me pretty hard."

"So Yen Sid's keeping you busy?"

"No," corrected Geo. "Some other guy. His name really is Taskmaster."

"That's weird."

* * *

Doctor Doom and Moreau Mephistopheles watched intently from Doom's throneroom window as Moreau's demonstration began. He made many boasts and promises that morning, and it was time to offer up proof. Down below, in the toxic rain-soaked courtyard of Doomstadt, two forces were set upon each other in a contest for supremacy. To the east, a small contingent of Doom's robot sentries stood at attention. The dozen purple androids were led by a Doombot, a mechanical replica of Dr. Doom himself. They were opposed on the west by Moreau's Heartless: six little Shadows, four inky-colored Soldiers in clattering, unpolished armor, and a gigantic, rotund Large Body.

"Attack!" commanded Doom from on high.

At the command, the sentries marched forth at a brisk pace, unholstering laser pistols and firing into the opposing force's front line. The Shadows sank into the ground to avoid the blasts, while the Soldiers went scampering about, their battle armor clinking and clanking as their seemingly-clumsy limbs flailed about. The remorselessness of the androids' emotionless faces would instill fear in any human alive, but did nothing to the inhuman Heartless.

Behind his mask, Doom smirked. 'See how they scatter before the might of my forces!' he inwardly boasted. 'These irksome playthings are nothing.'

Just then, the two-dimensional Shadows rose up out of the slick cobblestones and swarmed three of the sentries. Meanwhile, the Soldiers began engaging in acrobatic martial feats. Some of them twirled about, executing cyclonic kicks, while others turned awkward but effective cartwheel attacks. At range, Doom's robot army seemed to have the advantage. Now the Heartless turned the tables in melee combat, dispatching half of the purple androids.

Then they executed a choreographed maneuver, an unexpected move for seemingly mindless creatures. The Large Body slapped its hand on its enormous belly, which resounded like an echoing war drum. The Shadows became two-dimensional again, and the Soldiers scattered. Then the massive Heartless dropped its weight and launched itself forward as a massive and formidable projectile. The remaining robot sentries were buffeted like bowling pins, and the other Heartless quickly pounced, making short work of them.

"Well?" prompted Moreau Mephistopheles.

"Do not be so quick to declare victory," warned Doom. He knew full well that his robot sentries were expendable foot soldiers, mass-produced and used up like so much fodder. His prized Doombot, on the other hand, was a master-crafted war machine.

The Doombot sprang into the battle, firing concentrated energy beams from its palms. Two Soldiers were taken out instantly, giving up their glowing cores to the heavens. All the Shadows followed soon, blasted into black puffs of smoke that set their luminous insides free. When one of the remaining Soldiers tried to attack with a spinning kick, the Doombot simply knocked it aside with a backfist, destroying it instantly. Then it blasted the last Soldier, which was trying to flank it.

Moreau Mephistopheles raised an eyebrow and half-smiled. "Not bad, but the fight is far from over."

The Doombot launched into action, advancing on the Large Body while firing blast after blast into its center of mass. For its part, the Heartless' humongous belly giggled, but remained undamaged. As the Doombot approached, it twisted its spherical torso to one side and raised an arm before striking out at the replica of the Latverian monarch.

The Doombot tumbled across the pavement, then regained its senses and returned to its feet. It was too late, though; the Large Body had launched itself into the air, and escape was now impossible. It came crashing down butt-first on the mechanical warrior, smashing it to bits. After that, the mindless beast stood up, scratched its tiny head, and waddled about the courtyard, patrolling for further enemies after its habit.

Doom turned to find Moreau Mephistopheles looking to him for an answer, wearing an insufferably smug grin on his face. "Well?"

After a pause, Doom conceded. "Impressive."

* * *

Friday morning in Yen Sid's castle brought more ceaseless training for all three youngsters. Yen Sid had just finished instructing Geo in the north wing, leaving him with another assistant instructor, and was now, alongside Balthazar, guiding Hydrangia in a room on the castle's western edge. Aerol was practicing his exercises alone in a courtyard in the east, but he would receive tutelage under the ancient sorcerer soon enough.

"Focus," the old wizard instructed Hydrangea.

"Relax," reminded Balthazar.

Hydrangea grasped her wand tightly with two sweaty hands, keeping it and her eyes pointed at a broom on the far side of the room. The room's marble walls, decorated with relief designs of stars and crescent moons, were spread far apart, thus giving the broom lots of space to hop around. Her shoulder muscles tensed as she awkwardly conjured an attack spell. "Fire!"

With that, she energized her wand and launched a ball of flame from its end. The fireball scorched a ceramic moon tile and missed the broom completely.

"Again," commanded Yen Sid.

"Aim where it's going, not where it is," Balthazar instructed. "And relax!"

"Fire!"

She launched another fireball at the broom, this time striking it squarely. It disintegrated in a puff of white, magical smoke. The girl smiled, turning to the old wizard for his reaction. Her smile soon faded.

He stroked his beard, narrowed his eyes, and eyed Hydrangea curiously. He was about to offer praise for her performance, but something seemed out of place. Yen Sid turned his gaze to a table in a distant corner of the room. On that table was an ancient text on magic wands. It was heavily dog-eared.

Yen Sid never creased the pages in his books, and knew Balthazar to be likewise.

"Well?" asked Balthazar. He was expecting a better reaction than what the elder wizard was offering. "She's getting somewhere, right?"

The wizard waved his hands in the air, conjuring another broom. This time, the animate cleaning tool was wrapped in flames.

"Again," he commanded.

Hydrangea cast her spell again. "Fire!"

The broom was hit, but was completely unaffected by her attack.

The younger sorcerer was confused. "What are you doing?" he asided.

She tried again. "Fire!" It was just as ineffective. "Fire!" Her magic only made her target blaze even more brightly. "Fire!" The magic broom danced and pranced in a livelier manner. "Fire!" No matter how hard she tried, she could not strike it down.

"It is already on fire," Yen Sid reminded her.

The flaming cleaning tool was moving faster, burning brighter, and becoming more aggressive. It stopped prancing then turned to face her. After pausing a moment, it hopped and bounded in her direction.

"Yen Sid," quietly protested Balthazar, "she could get hurt."

"Act quickly," the wizard warned Hydrangea, ignoring Balthazar's confidential words.

"Fire!" The spell was ineffectual again. Hydrangea grimaced. "Fire!" Failure again. The broom simply absorbed the attack. "Fire!" Sweaty palms made the wand slip. The spell missed altogether. Her eyes widened. Her stomach tensed in sudden panic. She turned to Yen Sid, who only stared back with a poker face, waiting to see what she would do as the pressure mounted.

"Yen Sid!" shouted Balthazar.

Suddenly fearing for her safety, the student raised her wand to the ceiling. "Aero!"

With that, she wrapped herself in a swirling wind of protection only a fraction of a moment before the broom collided with her. She was knocked to the ground, but remained undamaged. Her antagonist was forced backward, but steadied itself and charged a second time.

"Stop!" This new spell caused the broom to halt in mid-hop; even its flames were unmoving. She took this chance to rise to her feet and launch a different attack at her foe.

"Blizzard!" She fired an array of ice crystals from the end of her wand, hitting the immobilized target. It exploded into a white puff of glittery ether.

Hydrangea smiled, satisfied with her performance. She turned to Yen Sid for his reaction, and was crestfallen to find him frowning in disapproval.

"You were sandbagging," concluded Balthazar, whose surprise-tempered disappointment was clearly evident in his voice. "Why?"

She didn't answer.

"You've been studying hard," Yen Sid observed. "Why did you conceal this?"

Hydrangea cast her eyes downward, cheeks reddening in shame. She wished then and there that she could melt and sink into the floor just so she could escape his condemning gaze.

"If your friends are in mortal danger, you cannot afford to hide your skills, lest that danger overtake them," he chastised.

"I didn't want to show off," she explained.

"Irrelevant!" shouted Yen Sid.

Hydrangea's grip around the wand's shaft tightened, and she clutched it to her chest. Her head sank as far between her shoulders as she could manage, while tears began filling her eyes.

"Innocent lives may depend on you," the wizard continued. "Aerol and Geo's lives may depend on you! You must hold nothing back, do you understand?"

Eyes still on the floor, she meekly apologized, "I'm sorry."

* * *

Moreau Mephistopheles extended his hand. "So are we agreed?"

"Agreed."

Doctor Doom accepted it, wrapping his armored fingers around Moreau's black leather gloves. The deal was sealed, save for one last detail.

"Make your oath," Moreau instructed.

"I, Victor Von Doom, pledge to rule Latveria as the agent of Moreau Mephistopheles in exchange for his gifts of power. Furthermore, I pledge my service and deference in all things to him in Latveria."

Moreau smiled, and proceeded to deliver his end of the bargain. Tendrils of dark energy emanated from his hand and he infused Doctor Doom with a portion of his dark power. Doom could feel the surge of energy filling his body, starting from his arm and radiating throughout his entire physique.

Moreau broke the handshake first and turned, making his way out of Doom's throne room. He walked with a confident stride. After all, he had just won another world with minimum effort.

Straightening his tie, he spoke without bothering to look back. "Remember your oath, Doom."

"Lord Doom _always_ keeps his word," the Latverian monarch insisted.

As the heavy doors closed behind Moreau, Doctor Doom returned to his throne, enjoying the new sensations of darkness that flowed through him. Such power! Such vitality! Such awareness! From his seat of power, he raised a hand, bidding Heartless to rise from the ground.

So they did, at first formless amoebas of black, but soon given shape. They oozed arms and legs, taking humanoid form. The tyrant kneeded and shaped the air before him, his gestures directing his new servants' maturation like a sculpor molding figures in clay. In true Doom tradition, the Lord of Latveria fashioned them in his own likeness, their dark bodies clad in hooded green capes and their faceless visages covered by unmoving metal masks that did little to hide the telltale round, luminous, yellow eyes of a Heartless.

Lightning flashed, illuminating Doom's dim keep. As the ruthless monarch stood proudly with arms akimbo, his Heartless creations prostrated themselves in veneration. While they sank back into the shadows, not yet needed by their master, an evil genius' grin spread wide behind the unfeeling mask of the tyrant. Pleased with his new creations, he turned his gaze to the closed doors to his throne room. His eyes narrowed menacingly.

"You shall soon see, Moreau Mephistopheles, that Victor Von Doom honors his agreements to the letter."

* * *

Aerol collapsed onto his bed. It was the only piece of furniture in his small, sparsely decorated room. Four white stone walls, a window, a door, and the bed were all he had, but they were all he needed. He only slept there, and all his waking hours were spent in training – hard, exhausting training. Except for meal breaks, he spent every moment of the past seven days working with Yen Sid, Balthazar, or Taskmaster, or practicing the day's lesson over and over again on his own.

That's when there was a knock on the door.

"Gum min," bade the boy, his voice muffled by having his face planted in the mattress.

Geo entered and collapsed next to his friend. He then spoke with his voice also dulled by the fact that he was lying face-down.

"Sdubid brooms."

"I know, righd?"

There was another knock. Both boys responded "Gum min" in unison. Hydrangea entered and promptly planted her face in the mattress as well.

"Dis sugs," she complained. "I hade brooms."

The trio righted themselves and sat up on Aerol's bed. They were all exhausted, and each was experiencing their own set of doubts about their meager combat skills.

"I don't feel like I'm getting any better at this," Hydrangea said. "It's only been a week but it feels like we've been training forever."

"It's been _way_ too long," said Geo. He punched his hand to make a point. "I want to give Mephistopheles some payback _now_."

"We're not strong enough to fight someone like him," Hydrangea countered.

Aerol interrupted. "Look, guys, we can't take on someone as powerful as Moreau yet, but don't worry. It's not like we're going to get sent out after him until we're strong enough, right?"

"You will not be sent to confront Moreau Mephistopheles at all."

The trio turned to see their benefactor standing in the doorway. He stroked his beard a few times, practicing his ancient habit, then began to speak.

"There was a group of three adventurers who fought universal threats in the past. One was the king of a threatened world, and the other two his most trusted friends."

Aerol remembered his previous dreams. 'There was a mouse, a duck, and a tall dog,' he thought to himself.

"King Mickey was a keyblade master," Yen Sid explained. "Keyblade masters are chosen by an unknown force to wield weapons of great power. Their skills with those weapons become instinctive, and they wield them effortlessly almost from the instant their weapon is gained. Donald was a sorcerer with many years of training, and Goofy was a professional soldier. They sought out Mephistopheles and have since gone missing. The three of you do not possess their level of power, so I cannot dare send you against him."

Geovanni bared his teeth in anger. To put off fighting Mephistopheles until they were stronger was one thing, but to deny them vengeance entirely was something else, something unacceptable and wrong. It was a miscarriage of justice!

"That's not fair!" he roared.

The unflappable old wizard stroked his beard and answered, "Life and the universe seldom treat us fairly."

"Is there anyone else who's ever tried this before?" asked Aerol.

"There were three others," the wizard answered. "There was a group of youngsters from an island world where the people work as fishermen. Remarkably, all three of them were chosen to hold keyblades."

Geo demanded, "So why can't we team up with _them_ and go after Mephistopheles?"

Their unshakable mentor reported, "They, also, have disappeared."

"Hold on, hold on!" pleaded Aerol. "What's a keyblade?"

Hydrangea had gotten that answer days ago from one of Yen Sid's books. "It's a…" She stopped herself. She had to. Nobody likes a know-it-all, her mother always said. "…a key, but also some kind of blade. I mean, it's in the name, right?"

Aerol and Geo nodded; it made sense, after all. Yen Sid, on the other hand, frowned at her, forcing her to hide her reddening face again. He saw right through her feeble ploy to disguise her studies. Now she was caught between a rock and a hard place. She had to suffer the disapproval of her teacher or the disapproval of her friends. She could still hear her mother's admonitions reaching out to her from the past.

The wizard raised an eyebrow. "And…?"

She thought of her father.

"And…?" he sternly prodded.

"Well," she meekly began, "ah… They're magic weapons." Her eyes were now focused intently on her hands, now clasped in her lap. "They're shaped like keys because they kind of are keys. They can free or lock up hearts – hearts of people or hearts of worlds."

She could feel fire burning in her face and ears. Everyone's eyes were on her, drilling holes into her soul. She wished she could evaporate like one of Yen Sid's brooms. It would certainly make the condemning voices from her past go away. "You can… ah… You can use them as… as w-weapons like s-swords, or… t-to cast m-magic like wands."

'Like the mouse from my dreams,' Aerol thought.

"How the heck did you know that?" asked Geo, notably impressed.

She turned away from her friends. How could they stand her now, after such a smug and vulgar display of I-know-more-about-keyblades-than-you arrogance?

"Book," she whispered.

"Wait," prompted Aerol, "All those guys, even the ones with super-special weapons are all gone? Vanished? Missing? Who's to say we won't end up missing, too?"

Yen Sid did not answer. Instead, he changed the subject. "Your purpose here is to seek the missing King and his retainers. That is your mission. Once you have accomplished this, they will seek and defeat Moreau Mephistopheles. That mission is theirs."

Geo frowned. His frown turned into a scowl as he balled his hands into fists. "That's not fair! It isn't right! We _deserve_ to be the ones who take Mephistopheles down!"

"Geovanni!" admonished Yen Sid, bringing down the full weight of his authority.

Each of the trio felt a sudden, cold chill in their veins. Hydrangea winced, and the hairs on the back of Aerol's neck bristled up. Geo, whose mouth was open to continue, fell silent. He removed the wrap-around shades from his pocket and put them on. He began grinding his teeth, folding his arms to reign in his reaction.

The old wizard continued, his voice slow and measured. "You will have to learn far more self-control than that if you hope to succeed in this."

"Sorry," the boy murmured.

An uncomfortable silence followed. Yen Sid stroked his beard a few times before breaking it.

"You each have such potential. I only wish I had more time to train you before sending you on your mission."

"When are we leaving?" Aerol asked.

"Right now."

And they vanished.


End file.
